The Road Towards Desolation
by Ellie's imagination world
Summary: Aina is far from her midwestern home, and tossed into the unfamiliar state of Maine. Her new bedroom is pretty decent (she did, after all, pick it herself), except for that small door with a bunch of glyphs all over it... Aina takes a chance, and opens it - finding wonders beyond her imagination; friendship, unworldly responsibility, and a burnt arm. (Giant, grump robots included.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: sooo... uh, I don't really know what this is. I just kinda wrote it. First transformers fic, so please tell me if something is wrong with the terminology or something!**

**Enjoy!**

**Ellie**

* * *

Chapter 1: In Which a Life Ends and Another Begins

Boxes. Boxes upon boxes were strewn about as they slowly replaced the numerous books that once lined my large shelf; as well as taking up space on my dresser where empty bowls, half filled cups, and dirty silverware once cluttered.

I hated boxes. I hated _organizing._

As I stared listlessly at my off-white ceiling - surrounded by those cursed boxes - I tried my best accepting the abandonment of my home. This home had been my base of operation for my entire life - from the chilly, office-converted basement, to the musty, hoard of our attic that was currently being emptied and ransacked by friends and family. I had almost come to terms by now - with preparations starting nearly a month earlier, I was now in the final stages of grief. I rolled over on my stripped mattress to the one of two walls that my bed was cornered, studying the area just above my head. There was a variety of small pictures and words carved, drawn, and engraved into the soft plaster. It was like my eternal mark on this house - my very own fingerprint. I settled my head on my fist, slowly tracing a group of old, uneven letters.

If looked at correctly, like how a person would study an abstract painting, you would be able to read the name _Aina Ward_ in wobbly, third-grade handwriting. There were various hearts and stars carved into the beige paint around it, giving the impression of a well-doodled, crappy old notebook. I sighed, bringing back my hand from tracing for what seemed to be the thousandth time this week.

The approaching of firm footsteps quickly pulled me from my musings. I quickly rolled off the bed, hitting the floor in an ungraceful heap. I scrambled up to my feet, grabbing a nearby book only to practically launch it in a box in order to give the appearance that I had been packing this whole time. It was easier to keep up appearances than to listen to a disappointed sigh.

My door creaked on its old hinges. "Aina?"

Another book met its violent fate. "Yeah?"

My mom stepped in, looking at my progress - which was, considering that it was _me_ packing, coming along well. Her faded bright red hair was whisked into a hastily done bun and tucked under a cap, her face flushed from the pump of iron and physical ordeal of emptying a house in a day. She placed her hands on her hips in a typical mom fashion, looking around my nearly empty room with a tired smile. "How you doing? Need any help with the last few boxes?"

I shrugged, pushing a stray lock back as it jostled loose from my sloppy ponytail. "Nah, I pretty much have it covered. Just need to tape things up."

She gave a nod, walking over to slip a hand around my waist. "Good. You got your bag together?"

I sighed. I've been over this drill more times that I care to count today. "Yes, It's over there." I pointed to the sad lump that was my duffle bag, nearly bursting from the seams.

"Wow, hun. You don't waste space." She squeezed my waist with a chuckle before slipping it away. "Just remember, we're loading up now. Bring your stuff out soon." With that, she turned to leave, snagging a box on her way out.

"AKA, 'get your shit together, Aina'." I mumbled. I did as I was told though, and quickly packed and taped the rest of my ridiculously large book collection. The rest of the day seemed to run by like it was fast-forwarded, loading up our abundance of crap in what I perceived as in only minutes - with the combined help of the hired movers and family. Furniture quickly followed suit. Before I could stutter _'W-wait a minute, hold up-'_, we were saying farewell to those who had gathered to help and see us off. Earlier today I had asked dad why we were moving so quickly, to which he supplied that his new job started in a week and it took at least three days to get to Maine, and a couple more to settle into our new home. _"Hon, I know it's hard, but just you see - the house and town is fantastic. You'll love it."_

_I only squinted at him. "Did you steal that from the corniest movie ever made?"_

_He gasped in mock outrage. "How did you know?!"_

I just hadn't anticipated that the move would come upon me so quickly.

I got my fair share of wheeze-worthy hugs and well-wishes, but most of it went over my head. I was more focused on the two-story we were leaving behind - from the faded blue paint, to the chipped white trim. It might have been a shabby looking house to others - but all I noticed were the flowerbeds that I used to pick from, or the sidewalk that used to be covered with meaningless splashes of pastel chalk on hot days.

It was all going away, and I had no way to stop it.

Before I knew it, the light blue house was shrinking in the van's back window, cutting out of sight as we turned a corner.

I hope that this new house was worth it - this new _life_. It looked nice in the pictures dad showed me when he went to scope it out - much roomier. It also had an attic room with it's own bathroom, which was something I immediately claimed after the move was declared official.

I hoped that the town we were going to live near to would be filled with friendly people, whom I could possibly find a friend among.

I could only hope.

* * *

The landscape passed in blurs of light golds, twinges of green and mild browns in the mid-morning light; the occasional house in the middle of a sea of corn flashed by as the road drew on. I watched the land slowly transform into unfamiliar towering trees and outcroppings rippling under the earth, bursting through the surface in juts and sharp turns. I pressed my forehead against the car's glass, staring while silently absorbing the fading glory of my old home into a new, alien world as my parent's hushed voices drifted back to me through the space of our van.

New England; a vast change of climate from the familiar state of Nebraska. My home state was notorious for the tall, familiar golden tipped stalks that grew for miles all around; the only source of scenery for hours on end.

This new land though, was very different. It didn't have the wide expanse of sky above, and lacked warmth of the Nebraska sun I thought I knew well. The trees were nice, though. I liked the trees.

Maybe I can at least like the forests here.

As our long trek from the heartland to the Northeast drew to a close, our small band of three started to grow excited when our new home came into view as the trees thinned. The moving trucks were already there; unloading the smaller boxes while waiting for us to unlock our new home. My legs were itching to stretch, the muscles cramped from the long car-ride.

As soon the car slid to a stop, I was immediately out and stretching my screaming muscles. Mom and dad seemed grateful for the extra space as well; if their creaking joints and looks of appreciation as their muscles contracted.

"Arg," Dad groaned. "We are _never_ taking a road trip again. Airplanes from here on out." He adjusted his glasses on his thin nose as a determined look crossed over his weary face.

Mom gave a tired chuckle. "You always say that. It seems like the more you say it, the more you'll believe it."

Dad sighed, but laughed slightly as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "It's only because _I'm_ the one who has to drive the whole trip."

"Not exactly true." I shot over my shoulder, already swinging the stolen keys around my fingers as I strode up to the house.

Dad made a choked, indignant sound when he recognized the sound of his keys jingling around in my hands. "How do you even do that? I don't remember training a pick-pocket!"

I laughed and tossed his keys back. "I only wanted to see my new home."

He gave me a slight smile, the only sign that he was just as eager. "Alright kiddo," he came over to sling an arm around my shoulders. "Let's go see our new home."

My stomach was a twist of gut-wrenching impending doom and excitement as we ascended the porch steps to the front door. It seemed as ordinary as the rest of the house - a standard dark wood, three windows gleaming in the upper third of the door. The house itself was a stark white, oddly matching the light green trim of the windows and porch. I gazed curiously at the dense, tall trees that surrounded our almost isolate house. If you looked farther down the tall hill our house was placed on, you could see the tiny town of Eon, with a population of less than ten-thousand.

As we neared, I thought the two story looked roomy enough but I could care less about the rest of the house at the moment - my sights were set on the small, circular window at the peak of the house - the attic room.

I nudged my Dad. "I still get the top room, right?"

He laughed, finally swinging the door open with a dramatic wave. "Of course, princess." I scoffed at the title, but ran into the empty house anyways.

I did, after all, have a room to claim.

I eagerly bounded my way up the stairs, my duffle bag nearly slipping off my shoulder from the harsh movement as the stairs quickly disappeared beneath my feet. As I reached the top, I resisted the urge to fling open the door in front of me which was in the way of my goal. Instead, I opened it like a practical person a light swing before kicking it the rest of the way open, screaming 'FOR GONDOR'.

I paused, flipping the switch on the wall nearby

As the heavy footsteps of the movers and my parents stomped below, I scouted out my new abode. It was an old renovated attic - and had a lovely view from the round window at the crest of the roof's seam, which ran along the ceiling's length. The carpet was old faded blue rag-rug, giving the room a well-lived in look. I dropped my duffle bag onto the floor, too tired to care of its' well being - my only focus on just resting for a second. I slumped onto the floor next to my forgotten bag, flopping back against the wall with a metallic _clang_ while I brushed my long hair out of my face.

_Huh?_ Should walls be metal?

Twisting around, I tried my best to rub the sleep from my eyes as I studied the wall behind me. The faded floral wallpaper looked to have been there for centuries - distracting enough to almost hide the outline of a door beneath.

That was, you were only inches away and had an up-close look.

I traced the slight grooves, getting a feel of the shape underneath. It seemed like a pretty standard mini attic door - like those small half-sized ones with an angled top.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I fished around in my mess of a duffle bag to find something to cut through the ancient wallpaper to get to the mysterious door. When my fingers grazed cool metal, I pulled my hand out with a bit of hesitance.

The tiny flicker of hope in my chest immediately deflated when I realized it was my butter knife from our earlier road trip following the moving truck - it still had a bit of peanut butter and jelly on it from lunch. I sighed._ I guess it'll have to do. It's not like I have a standard hunting knife in there._

Shrugging, I found a crumpled tissue and wiped my knife on that before turning back to the door. I traced my fingers along the paper, trying to find the outline again - which was easy enough. Please forgive me mother, I silently prayed.

For a second, I hesitated. Was ripping off the wallpaper really necessary to satisfy my burning curiosity and risking my parent's wrath?

_Totally._

I angled my butter knife at where I assumed was the top of the door underneath, slowly working my knife into the the paper as I tried cutting through as cleanly as I could. I lost track of time after the first side of the hidden door was cut, but I knew that my legs were starting to go numb from my lack of movement after a few minutes. But I was _so close_ \- close enough to nearly taste the secrets underneath - so I simply ignored the pain for the short amount of time I was spent cutting.

Finally, I roughly cut through the last inch, feeling a sense of tired victory bloom in my chest. I picked at the corners of the horrid wallpaper - eagerly tearing it away in long strips to reveal what it hid underneath. I knew that it was some kind of attic entrance - but I couldn't help but entertain the child in me and fantasize about other mystical scenarios. Shakily, I pulled away the last piece - sitting for a moment in stunned silence as I stared at my find.

The door was definitely _not_ the entrance to the attic.

It was a thick looking metal, shining dully in the room's ceiling light. It's edges were decorated with letters and figures I had never seen before - some had sharp edges that jutted out at the outer bit of the character, while others bore smooth curves and intricate designs in the center.

I was about to reach out and trace the strange markings when I heard the sound of familiar footsteps approaching on the old wooden steps. I looked over to the sound, spotting my mom's head pop up to my floor's level from the small stairwell. "Hey!" She grinned, a familiar flush blooming over her pale, freckled face. "So how's Aina's new abode? Is it _all_ you ever _dreamed_?"

I pulled my arm back and struggled to my feet, the lack of blood flow making it hard to regain my balance. I felt myself panic a little. She could not see what I did to the wall. "Y-yeah! It's perfect! I'll just set up my world domination plans over there." I pointed to the wall opposite of me, quickly taking advantage of her momentary distraction in order to shuffle over to her - and hopefully hide my destruction. "But lets go look at the rest of the house! I didn't really pay attention to the pictures when Dad showed me."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical. Sure, let's go take a look." I quickly ushered her down the stairs, and away from the mess I made in a daze of curiosity.

The house was larger than our previous home; the kitchen was connected with the living room, opening up a large section of the house. There were three bathrooms in total, one being in my room, while the other two were spaced out on the other two levels. Dad had already claimed one of the spare rooms as his office, leaving two left. Mom said that she wanted to convert one into a 'craft room', which I fully supported. Anything to get those creative juices going. The basement was unfinished, so it was kinda scary looking. I decided to avoid that level.

What I loved the most though, was our enormous backyard. It was back to back with an old forest - shading the house from most of the sun. It basically screamed 'EXPLORE ME' in my mind. As the tour drew to a close, we started to bring boxes and furniture in. At first I tried to carry the boxes to where they were supposed to go - according to the chicken-scratch written on the top - but by noon I had all but given up, and was practically tossing each box onto a precarious looking stack as I wheezed and sweated from truck to house to truck to house in an endless cycle of pain and sweat.

_Gross_.

If possible, moving all of our crap _in_ seemed to go ten times faster than it did _out_. After the movers had driven their mammoth truck away after giving near to no help at all, dad had declared it a pizza night. I, being the hungry seventeen year old that I am, promptly stuffed myself.

"Jesus." Dad whispered, looking down in horror as I shoved nearly half a piece in my mouth at once. "You're an animal."

I laughed raucously, quickly finishing off my last piece with a couple more bites. "Well," I managed through a mouth full of pizza. "I didn't get my table manners from _her_." I pointed over to mom, who was watching this with an amused eye.

Dad sputtered, grinning as he pointed at me. "Pick-pocketing and now _this_? I think we might have a pirate on our hands, Marie."

Mom rolled her eyes. "Sure, hon."

I grinned triumphantly, nearly rolling from my seat on my chair to throw my plate away. I could already feel the signs of sleep weigh on my eyelids as I trudged towards my stairs. I gave a 'good night', blowing an obnoxious kiss to my dad - who batted it away - and dragged myself upstairs.

I had nearly forgotten about my weird discovery from earlier - so when I retired for the night, the sight came as a slap in the face, curiosity driving me to simply just _reach out and touch the damn thing_ all over again.

Pushing the uneasy feeling in my stomach aside (I mean it could have been all that pizza I ate), I approached the door for the second time that day. The moon's rays shined across the surface, giving the dull metal eerie look. I brushed aside the wallpaper peelings from earlier so I could kneel. By now, I was fueled by pure curiosity.

"I'll just take a look, and go straight to bed." I quietly promised myself.

I reached out a hesitant hand, hovering over the carved designs before bringing my fingers down to trace.

Suddenly, a light seemed to run through the markings - shocking me to my very bones and up through my fingers, burning a path through my arm. I reared back with a small, pained whimper, clutching my hand to my chest as I stared wildly at the door - which was now silent. I looked down at my arm, inspecting the damage. I forced down tears as I looked.

My arm - from my fingers to my elbow - was covered with symbols scorched into my skin, akin to the engravings decorating the metal door. They were an angry red, nearly impossible to miss. I felt a steady rage boil up inside my chest, glaring holes into the door before me as irrational thoughts and feelings rushed forth. "That fucking _hurt_, you piece of shit!" I hissed, seething at the seemingly innocent door. I crawled furiously back up to the metallic entry while cradling my injured arm, planning to somehow give it a piece of my mind. When I was just about to reach for the door's handle the metal hissed and swung back before I could even graze it.

Startled back, I forgot my anger and studied the new space from my spot on the floor, the feel of the carpet underneath my bare feet a reminder that this wasn't a dream. I resolved myself. What could possibly be in there? Monsters? I scoffed at my thoughts, reaching for my duffle once again to dig out a flashlight. Before I could convince myself to reconsider, I pulled back my hair with a band from my wrist and crawled through the small space and into the dark unknown.

Feeling the space before me open up, I hesitantly stood - my trembling fingers fumbling for the switch on my flashlight.

I stood for a moment in stunned silence, a quiet awe washing through me. Reaching far above me was the largest goddamned room I had ever seen. It reached high over my head - feeling almost like the endless night sky. The width was harder to determine, considering the limited reach of my flashlight. From what I could tell, the room was roughly the size of a football field. My flashlight continued to wander the metal walls and floor, my bare feet padding against the metallic ground as I followed my light. It seemed as though the whole expanse of the room was made of the same metal as the door - even baring some of the same kind of 'glyphs' here and there, matching the angry burns on my arm.

I laughed quietly to myself, still a little stunned at the impossibility of my find. "No monsters after all." I whispered. A loud groan echoed through the large room, freezing me in my tracks. That single sound sent my mind into a whirlwind that was going a million miles a minute. _I just jinxed it, didn't I? Oh my god I'm going to die, I'm definitely going to die. Nope, nope, nope-_

I froze as another sound echoed - a racket of scraping of metal and furious whirring gears, the large noises filling up the tense quiet. I quickly shut off my flashlight with trembling fingers, standing stock still while waiting for _whatever_ was making that noise to just _go away_.

I don't know how long I stood there for - but all I knew was that my feet were freezing, my arm burned, and I was getting stiff. Not fun. Deciding that it was safe to move, I tested my theory by moving my foot a tiny step back, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest.

That's when crap _really_ started hitting the fan.

There was flashing lights and rapid clicks as I screamed, making a dash for my small door while chanting _"Nope nope nope nope nope."_ My panicked sprint was cut short when a large metal fucking _pillar_ slammed down into my path, causing the ground beneath my feet to buckle and quake - halting my escape. Unbalanced and disoriented, I tripped straight into said pillar. The metal was covered with smooth pieces, sliding against me as I slid to the ground in a daze. Following my very _graceful_ fall, a series of furious whirls, clicks and low warbles rumbled from above me.

The world twisted around as my mind desperately tried to grasp my current situation, all the while keeping a healthy mantra of 'Nope'. I quickly found my feet, scrambling up from the floor and around the metal pillar. For a split second during my escape, I made the mistake of looking up.

I was so screwed. There were _definitely_ such things as monsters.

A behemoth stood above me, an air of tangible power radiating off of the metal man's thick armored plates as two glowing blue eyes locking with my own for a split second. Another large metal… _limb_, for lack of a better word, crashed into my path of escape, effectively knocking me back on impact. I groaned when my body hit the floor, my head taking a good whack on the way down.

As my eyes fluttered from pain, a few comprehensible words filtered in through the gibbering the giant was spouting. The burning in my arm a distant feeling as I focused on said giant crouching over my tragically fallen form.

"Slag it…" Warble, click click. "Hatchet's gonna hav-…" Click. "A glitch…" Whirl, click. "Hey squishy…" Warble. "…okay?"

I forced my eyes to stay open - staring straight into the giant's eyes, only a mere foot away. I slowly rose up onto my elbows, inching them backwards and my adrenaline spiked once again that night. His eyes quickly picked up on the movement, widening before scooping me up in one of his metal clawed-hands. "Oh no you don't! I've had enough of you scurrying around!"

My breath came in gasps as I watched the floor disappear from the corner of my eye, lifting me closer to the metal man's height. My voice started out as a whisper, but steadily it rose. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope."

The giant's eyes seemed to narrow in irritation, his shining features shifting into an expression of annoyance, with a bit of fear. "This nonsense again? What will it take for you to stop glitching and _listen for a moment?!_" I continued my chant, my voice turning shrill at his outburst. "Fine." He growled over my voice. "Maybe if you find out how _annoying_ you're being, you'll _stop_ this nonsense." He took a deep breath, causing me to pause for a moment at his sudden movement before belting out "YEP YEP YEP YEP YEP". I squeaked, covering my head with my hands and curling into a ball while picking up my mantra again in a panic. Our loud chanting broke the tense silence of the large room, echoing beyond into unseen corridors.

And that's how it played out for a little bit. I don't know how long we did this, but both of our voices were steadily rising until I was nearly screaming. Looking back now, I realize we sounded like some crack-happy muppets.

Unbeknownst to me, a second giant man was quickly approaching our little "Nope vs. Yep" scream match, which I was curiously winning. My original giant metal man was currently straining to best me - only stopping when a large wrench flew across the room and crashed straight into his helm.

We both immediately quieted, him out of fear and me out of paralyzed terror. "Primus so help me," the new, very angry voice seethed, the source two furious blue flames in the dark. "This better be a _fragging good reason_ to interrupt my recharge after I went _cycles without one."_

_"Frag me, Hatchet's gonna offline me this time."_ My giant whispered, eyeing me with fear in his eyes. "H-hatchet." He stuttered, seeming to try and hide me behind his back. "I didn't know you were online-"

_"OF COURSE I'M ONLINE! Any Mech with a working processor could hear you from the other side of the galaxy!"_ They new robot man (or Hatchet?) roared, causing me to curl up and let out a squeak of fear.

There was a second of tense silence before the new giant spoke again. "Sideswipe… what was that?" His voice was low and dangerous, threatening even. "What are you hiding behind your back?"

"I-its n-nothing, Hatchet-"

"If you don't show me what you're hiding behind your back _right now_, not even Primus will help you after I'm done."

My giant's - _No, Sideswipe_, I corrected myself - shoulders seemed to sag in defeat, finally bringing my terrified form forward with an open hand. "I found her wandering the main hangar while on patrol, so naturally-"

"So _naturally_, you decided to scare the femme half out of her processor." Hatchet growled. Suddenly, lights flooded the enormous room; finally giving me a decent look at what I officially dumped myself into. The robot before me was very angry - I could tell that much by the way his bright yellow armor seemed to flair out. His glowing blue eyes glared at the robot holding me before flickering down to my trembling form. He immediately reached for me, gently scooping me up into his own ridiculously large hand. "It's alright now, sweet spark. I won't let that _pit spawned glitch_ scare you anymore."

"Ratchet, I didn't hurt her-" The other one tried to defend himself.

"No, but you scared her to the point of which she could have harmed _herself, Sideswipe_!" His voice dropped dangerously again, bringing me closer to his chest - protectively?

From between Hatchet's fingers, I glanced over at my previous captor. He bore gold and green tinted plates, silver peaking out in certain gaps of his armor. On the side of his feet were large disks, vaguely resembling wheels. His head bore horn like protrusions giving the glare on his facial plates an even more fearsome quality. From his arms crossed over his chest, I could see blades peeking out from the back his arm plating.

I whimpered slightly, turning to burrow my face into the nicer robot's chest. Right now, I was looking for literally _any_ protection that was offered. Hatchet seemed to let out a soft trill at my effort to seek comfort - cupping me so Sideswipe was no longer in sight. Hatchet started to walk - long, smooth strides, like he was trying not jar me. "Oh, and get Prime. He'll want to know we have an organic on board."

There was a blunder of protesting. "But Hatchet, Optimus nearly off-lined me last time-"

Hatchet stopped and turned, practically bellowing. "JUST GET HIM." And with that, Hatchet continued walking.

Meanwhile, I had stopped shaking. I figured I had reached my mental limit - there is only so much you can scare a person before they crash and start burning internally. I was gradually relaxing, easing my body against the curiously warm metal around me.

What had I gotten myself into?

**A/n: What'd you think? Where do you think the story is going? Please review and tell me! My cousin thought that Sideswipe sounds a little like Loki in here, so I'd thought I would change his color to that likeness. Maybe Sunstreaker will have red and gold - who knows! Tell me if you think that's a good idea!**

**AFTER EDIT A/N: So. I've been having some troubles with Cybertopian terminology... like certain words they use for time. There's so many variations out there, I'm not sure which ones to use. If anyone knows the solid and ****definite terms for time that the bot's use and tell me, that would save me _so_ much trouble!**

**Anyways, if you haven't noticed, I've updated the beginning! Now you have a feeling to what Aina is feeling about moving. And her parent's aren't exactly faceless anymore. AND I've changed her new house location to Maine. Why, you ask? Well, it's simply because of a simple movie called 'Iron Giant'. **

**Seriously. I can't believe anyone else hasn't written a mind-blowingly amazing crossover fic between Iron Giant and Transformers yet. I'm not going to write a crossover fic myself, but I'm just kinda astounded that no one else has written anything. Kapish? Anyways, I just kinda saw the connection and said to myself, "Ellie, if you don't make her live there and one of the autobots crash there at some point in the story, you will be labeled as a failure."**

**My subconscious is so nice. **

**ANYWHO, Let me know about your thoughts, questions, or advice - I want to hear it all! The more feedback I get, the better the writing gets. **

**One more question; Should Aina be paired with anyone? If so, who do you think she should be paired with?**

**Just think about it**

***RANT OVER***


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, here we are again. Nothing special to say.**

**Just enjoy!**

**Ellie **

* * *

Chapter Two: A Whole New World

As time passed and the walking continued, I found myself studying my arm's new burns. The glyphs seemed to have already healed, but still bore an angry red pigment on the skin's surface. I traced the foreign marks, quietly marveling at their unique design. They seemed to concentrate and swirl at my fingertips - which were now a lovely shade of black, fading slightly until the skin turned normal at my wrist.

I was startled out of my studying by Hatchet's attempt at a soft voice, which came out as a low growl. "What's a tiny organic doing here, of all places? I didn't scan you when we took off…" He brought me up to his eye level, studying me. "I don't think I've seen an organic like _you_ before." I curled my knees up to my chest, uncomfortable at his sudden interest.

"S-sorry." I sniffed, clutching my knees closer - unintentionally showing Hatchet my arm.

His eyes grew brighter as I spoke. "What did you say?" his voice echoed, curiosity plain in his awed whisper.

"I-I said I was s-sorry…" I didn't dare look at him, images of a bloody splat on the wall flashing through my mind.

His eyes studied me for a moment, finally landing on my arm. I heard a few unintelligible curses fly from his metal mouth, quickly bringing me back to his chest and quickening his steps. "Wheeljack!" Hatchet called, urgency clear in his voice as it bounced off the vastly-spaced hallways. "Get your pit-spawned faceplates out here!"

There was a groan and a loud crash, more than a few curses echoing into the hallway before a wobbly machine-man poked his head out. "Whadya want, Hatchet? I was in the middle of my recharge cycle-"

"Slag your recharge cycle! Get your processor in order and follow me!" Hatchet seemed to be even more so energetic, his thundering steps quickening as we flew past Wheeljack's wide, surprised glowing eyes. "Get to it, you rusted bucket!"

"Alright, alright! Don't lose any screws, you crazy medic…" He mumbled, finally speeding up his own legs to catch up to Hatchet's growing momentum. The walls blurred around me in dark shades of blue, cold grey, and flashes of red and white symbol that looked like a face. I myself had taken up on gripping the fingers around me for dear life as we sped along, turning sharply into another enormous room. This one was less open than the original one I came through - only because of the large tables, cluttered tools, and half finished projects scattered about was taking up more space.

It honestly terrified me, and I had no idea why. Maybe it was because of that particularly sharp looking scalpel thing? Or that tiny saw that looked as if it could tear through my surprised face faster than I could say, 'I regret becoming that one girl the audience hates because she does stupid things like investigate dark, mysterious doorways'.

Maybe I was being a little overdramatic. But hey, in my defence, I _was_ being lugged around by a metal man that seemed to have major anger issues.

I was startled out of my thoughts by the feeling of the hands around me retreating, practically dumping me onto one of the enormous metal tables. Hatchet pointed a large finger at me, a stern look on his shiny face. "Don't. Move." I nodded quickly, giving myself a slight crick in my neck. His furiously glowing eyes turned to the metal man behind me, who visibly stiffened when Hatchet turned his gaze onto him. "Watch her. _Do not_ let her out of sight, or I'll pull you apart and use you for some half-decent drones." He nodded so quickly I feared for his neck too - he looked to have a faster nodding speed than me.

We both let out a sigh as Hatchet entered another, smaller room - therefore, out of sight. The one Hatchet had called 'Wheeljack', drifted his glowing eyes to me, finally getting a proper opportunity to study the object that the medic had clutched so closely. I shied away from him as he brought his face unnervingly close, once again pulling my legs practically into my chest. "What a strange organic." He seemed to murmur to himself. "How did you get on without Hatchet blowing a gasket?"

"I don't know." I whispered. My eyes widened - I had _definitely didn't_ mean to say that out loud.

His eyes seemed to widen - if possible. This close to them, I could see that they weren't exactly eyes - they seemed to glow from an unseen sorce, white and blue swirling around like an eternal fire. It was beautiful. Maybe, if I wasn't being started at like I killed a puppy right before him, I would have taken a moment to appreciate the way his 'eyes' seemed to burn the intensity of his emotions.

For example; I could tell that he was extremely surprised. One, because his eyes were very wide, and two, because he quickly snatched up my arm while muttering incoherently. I managed to catch a few things though, the "How is she speaking Cybertopian" in particular caught my attention.

I was quickly growling uncomfortable with the situation; well, even more so than I already was - with my arm nearly pulled from it socket, and all that fun stuff. "C-can I have my arm back, sir?"

Wheeljack seemed to take a moment to process, before letting my arm fall to my side once again, said limb now pulsing painfully after the sudden inspection. "Sorry." He didn't seem that sorry.

I didn't reply as I pulled my arm back into my lap. We seemed to take a moment to study each other - human and giant, assessing. Eventually, the silence was too much for me; the heavy quiet wearing on my already frazzled nerves. "So." I started, my voice wavered and hesitant. "What's it like being so big?"

There was a moment of silence, before Wheeljack started letting out this sound that was a cross between a bark, grinding metal, and a wheezing old man.

It took me a minute to realize that he was _laughing. _

"Of all things to say, ya ask _that?" _He laughed, the grating quieting into only a slight wheezing, grinding sound. "Well, tiny organic - what's it like being so slaggin' _small?_"

I cleared my throat, as if trying to clear away my ever present fear. "Good point." I muttered.

"If ya don't mind me askin', how'd you get around to speakin' Cybertopian? It ain't an easy language for an organic to learn." His arms were now crossed over his large chest, his head tilted slightly to the side in an inquisitive manner. For a second, I studied him. He was a strange giant, that was for sure. Unlike that Sideswipe dude and Hatchet, the lower half of Wheeljack's face was covered with a mouth guard; covering anything that would have resembled a mouth or nose, leaving his glowing eyes. There was also those fin-like things on the sides of his head, placed where his ears would be. They were curious to me, my eyes drifting to them whenever he talked - mainly because they flashed with each syllable he spoke.

I gave him a strange look, my fear subsiding a bit now that I was having a slightly normal conversation in a day of insanity. "What do you mean? I'm speaking English." I took a moment to listen to myself, sounding out a few words and feeling my vocal chords trill and work in an unfamiliar way. My eyes widened, the realization slamming into me, _that is most definitely not English._

Wheeljack seemed to huff, tilting his head in that inquisitive manner of his. He reminded me of a dog. "You didn't know you were speaking Cybertopian?"

I was about to snap back '_Well, I didn't know when I woke up today that I would be talking to a fucking metal giant, but I guess the world isn't peaches and cream.' _But the sound of large footsteps approaching chased away my moment of spark (heh). Hatchet returned, carrying a small metal box in his huge hands, an excited look on his metal face.

He quickly approached us, placing the small box near me with a loud '_Clang_', causing me to jump. I looked up at him, his bright eyes gleaming suspiciously. "Uh-oh." I heard Wheeljack whisper.

I turned back to him, my heart rate picking up once again. "What do you mean by uh-oh? Why is there an uh-oh?" My voice was steadily rising in my panic, along with each breath turning shorter and quicker than the last as I moved to cradle my sore arm to my chest.

Wheeljack seemed to fret over me for a moment, trying to figure out why I was 'malfunctioning', he kept muttering. He probably expected smoke to start curling out from my ears any second now. "Nothin' to worry about, uh…" He seemed to draw a blank, taking a moment to think as his head tilted sideways and eyes dimming for a moment.

_Oh,_ I thought. _I never gave them my name._ "Um," I gulped. "It's Aina."

Wheeljack's eyes winked off and on for a second - blinking?. "Huh?"

"My name, it's Aina. You know, that thing I'm called?" I offered sarcastically.

"_Oh!"_ Was all he managed. He seemed ready to say something else, but Hatchet abruptly interrupted.

"Sorry to intervene this touching moment, but I have a _patient _to attend to, if you would mind pulling your processor out of your aft for a _nanoklik_." He then proceeded to blow the dust off of the small box, taking care with his large fingers as he delicately opened it while ignoring Wheeljack's grumbles. "I haven't used this medical kit for Vorns… I'm not even sure I can recall _how_ to use it…"

As I listened, I leaned wearily away from Hatchet and his quickly alarming statements. _Medical kit? Patient? What are they going to do?_

Hatchet's glowing gaze shifted over to me, and therefore, my alarmed face. He gave an exasperated huff, frowning. "Oh, don't give me that look! Wheeljack, this is all your fault! Now you've got her frightened! Just come here- _stop that, biting isn't going to help. _Just let me see that- stop hitting! If you keep doing that, you'll only end up hurting yourself. Wheeljack, just hold her like that- _there_, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

After getting a confirming nod from Hatchet, Wheeljack hesitantly released his hand from around my torso. I glared murderously at the weird bandage covering the entirety of my burnt arm, the cool gel Hatchet applied giving off a strange numbing feeling whenever I moved my arm. Feeling thoroughly humiliated and frustrated, I momentarily forgot my fear and turned my glare up to Hatchet. "Wha'dya do to me, Hatchet?"

Said giant robot man seemed to freeze for a moment, before narrowing his furious eyes, which seemed to glow even brighter with his anger. "_Where_," He breathed, "_did you hear that name?"_ Instead of answering, I made the mistake of gaping up at the enraged robot. He growled in irritation, leaning in closer to my fearful form. "I won't ask again, I _said_-"

A large white armored hand fell in between me and the irate medic, acting as a shield as I was scooched across the enormous table towards my savior. "Ratchet, she probably heard Sideswipe call you that." I clutched one of his fingers in fear, holding it to me for a slight comfort of the impending doom that was coming in the form of a bright-yellow medic. "And what happened to 'don't frighten my patient?'" I peeked up at said robot man, trying my best to install sympathy within his very soul with my pleading eyes.

Hatchet- erm, _Ratchet_, took one glance down at my pathetic form, and immediately lost all fury in his burning blue eyes; waving his large hand in a dismissive manner, muttering something akin to "Bah, humbug" while turning away. Maybe it was just my imagination. With the imminent threat gone, I let go of a breath I wasn't even aware I was holding, my tongue thick in my mouth from my recent fear. I glanced up to my savior - my gratitude evident as I smiled nervously. Alien or not, he just saved me a possible future of ending up as a red splat.

Wheeljack's eyes seemed to be glowing in amusement, gently sliding his hand away when he seemed satisfied with my emotional state. "You alright?"

I gave a barked laugh. "Yeah, I just got threatened by the biggest doctor I've ever seen. I'm just great."

He made that grating sound again as he laughed. "Old Hatchet's throw is worse than his intentions. I wouldn't worry about him; I'd just worry about making a good impression for the others."

I looked up from inspecting my bandaged arm. "What do you mean 'making a good impression'? Aren't you guys it?"

He seemed to smile behind his face cover. "Nah, sweetspark. We ain't it." Fate seemed to take his words to heart; barely after the words left him a sound like a dozen boulders beating against metal came from the hallway. My momentary calm dissipated at the approaching sound. Wheeljack hollered over to where Ratchet disappeared before. "Hey Ratcehet!"

There was an angered "_What do you want _now_?"_

"They're comin'!"

There was more angered mumbles before said person came stomping forward, crossing his great arms in front of his chest. He looked a little relieved, if I were to be honest. Should I be worried because of that?

Like a cornered animal, I started to bristle as the avalanche of enormous feet drew closer. The door to the medical wing slide open with an electrical 'whoosh', revealing the source of my growing dread.

It was an army.

A fucking platoon.

I wanted to dissolve into a pile of dust right on the spot - into tiny little miniscule specs that no one would be able to find _ever_.

So maybe I was blowing their numbers out of proportions - but could you blame me? I was a tiny creature in the midst of titans. All I could do was stare up in wonder as they filed in the rapidly shrinking space of the med bay, mumbling and talking quietly amongst themselves. They were all different sizes, colors, and textures - small, chrome colored ones, large, angry looking ones; the combinations were endless. A particularly small one (well, compared to the others) seemed to crouch down to my level on the table, gazing intently. I curled up under the scrutiny - attempting to hide behind my curtain of hair.

"Jazz," Wheeljack sighed. "Stop staring at the organic. You're frightening her."

"I'm just lookin'. Never seen an organic like this before." He braced his large black hands on the table, taking a closer look. "An' how can ya tell the organic's a femme?" The new robot, Jazz, finally broke his staring contest with me in order to glance up at Wheeljack in honest curiosity.

"Because she _told_ me. 'Ya know, like talking?" Wheeljack rolled his eyes, crossing his large arms over his green and red decorated chest.

"She can speak Cybertopian? But how?" His eyes focused back to me, the staring contest renewed in earnest.

"In all honestly," Wheeljack murmured, "I have no idea."

Jazz hummed at that, and continued to try and find out all my secrets through the power of his uncomfortable gaze.

It was _really_ starting to grate on my already frazzled nerves. "Um… C-can you s-stop staring at me please? Its getting r-really uncomfortable."

Jazz grinned at me. "Sure thing, little lady." He straightened and took a step back, making room for a new figure to step in - one that was considerably larger. As the new robot approached my table, the room grew quiet as we all waited for the enormous metal giant to make a move. I pulled a strand of hair behind my ear with a trembling hand, studying the stranger as best as I could in the partial lighting. _Jesus, the guy is even taller than the light's reach._

The metal man's presence before me seemed to _demand_ attention, practically sucking the very air from my lungs as I stared wide-eyed up at the red and blue mountain. Saying he was large was an underestimate - he could have easily given King Kong a run for his money, and then some. His height surpassed the large overhanging light that shined over my head, throwing his face into the shadows; with the exception of the ominous glow of his eyes that all the occupants of this ship seemed to posses. His shoulders were too large to fit in between the smaller Ratchet and Wheeljack, forcing the large behemoth to angle his upper body as his gaze seemed to pierce straight through me. I took a glance down at his clenched hands - _which were larger than me_.

I gulped. If they were going to squish me, now was definitely the time.

There was a low rumble from red and blue Kong's chest, the only warning I had before his voice reverberated powerfully throughout the room, and straight through me. It was a weird feeling. "Ratchet," He rumbled, not unlike a thunderstorm, "is this what you woke me up for?"

Before the Medic could reply, a tiny voice broke the tense silence. "Are you Jesus?" I looked up at the giant with wonder, but that soon contorted into horror as I realized that I _actually _said that _out loud._

There was low rumbles throughout the room as the others laughed. I blushed furiously, cradling my now bandaged arm to my chest as I attempted curling up in a ball and disappearing from existence forever.

Goddamn, my feet were still _freezing._

There was another monstrous rumble throughout the room. "No, young one. My designation is Optimus Prime, Commander of the Autobots." There was a considering pause before he chose to speak again. "What is your designation, young organic?"

I was silent for a moment, glancing through my auburn locks at Wheeljack for a small assurance - he seemed to be the friendliest robot man I've met so far. He gave an encouraging nod, placing a large hand by my visibly frightened form to offer his own comfort.

I looked back to the still slightly hidden Optimus, clearing my throat a little before attempting to answer. "M-my name's Aina. I-it means 'Joy'." I immediately cringed at my own words. _Why did you have to tell him the meaning? He doesn't care! He's a giant fricken' robot that could squish me like a pea, he doesn't give a crap!_

The mountain called Optimus Prime started to move - his great head pulling itself from the shadows and into the light, continuing until he was barely a yard away from my trembling form. I stared in awe at the closeness of his enormous face, hands on either side of my form seemingly to box me in. The detail on his face alone astounded me - the many plates that made up the contours of his eyes, lips, and the two long, inteni looking protrusions in place of where a human's ears would be. When he blinked, around fifty different plates shifted and moved to accommodate the gesture.

So lost in my stunned study, I almost didn't hear his booming voice. "And how, Aina, did you get onto an Autobot ship?" He gazed expectantly at my small form; not hostile, but reserved curiosity swimming around in his swirling blue eyes.

I gulped again, trying to dislodge my heart from my throat unsuccessfully. "I-I'm really not quite sure-"

"What a fraggin' _lie!_" The robot from earlier shouted - the one who almost squished me under his foot - glaring daggers at me. "I saw her scurrying around with her little scanner, _spying!_"

I immediately became defensive. You would too, if you were surrounded by giant, suspicious aliens that could kill you in a blink of an eye. "I-I wasn't _spying_! That was a _flashlight!_ I was using it to see!"

Sideswipe looked like he wanted to say more, but the lifting of a large blue and red hand stopped him. "Sideswipe, stand down. I do not believe that Aina is a spy." He turned his head back to me, assessing. "Please, if you would tell us how you came upon our ship."

"Well," I winced as my voice cracked. Thanks, puberty. "I kinda just... walked in."

There was a moment of silence. Ratchet huffed. "What do you mean _just walked in?_"

I hunched over, the weight of his glare bearing over me. "Uh, there was an, um, door, and I just sorta-" I used my uninjured had to mimic walking with my middle and pointer finger. "-or I just slipped and fell on the stairs and into some crazy dream." I laughed nervously, but quickly stopped when silence followed.

Optimus Prime leaned in further, now an arms width away from my own face. "You mentioned a door. Will you show me?" A large hand was laid onto the table, a polite offering.

I gave a forced laugh. "It's not like I have a choice anyways." I rolled to my feet on wobbly legs, my knees nearly giving out before a couple of large fingers curled around me for support. I let out an indignant squeak, surprised at the sudden appearance of the metal appendages.

"You always have a choice," Optimus rumbled. The tremors from his voice traveled along his arm and into his hand, and seemingly straight into my soul. "freedom is the right of all sentient beings," I didn't dare protest when he lifted me onto his waiting hand, nor when he brought me close to his chest as the mountain started to walk. "No matter how large or small."

I grew quite at that, the enormous steps rocking me slightly as I was held securely against the giant's chest. _If that's what they believed in, then they aren't bad aliens, right? Does that mean they won't kill me?_ I slackened in the large metal man's grip in relief, my remaining adrenaline retreating as my mind grasped onto my small, realized hope.

Optimus seemed to feel me slump, lifting me up to his eye level to inspect. "Aina, are you alright?"

I looked back tiredly at the behemoth. "I just realized that you guys weren't going to kill me after all."

His face contorted into that of shock. "Why would you think such a thing?"

I blinked. "Well," I drawled, finally feeling the effect of two days of travel by car and the aftermath of an adrenaline rush hit my system like a freight train. "If _you_ stepped through a small door only to be nearly crushed to death, tossed around, and inspected by beings over a hundred times your size, I'll guarantee that you'll at least be a _little _freaked." I adjusted my into criss-cross-applesauce style, reveling in the surprising warmth radiating from the metal palm beneath me. At this point, the very needed heat on my feet was making me feel very tired and drowsy and was significantly slowing down my thought process.

"I am sorry for your treatment, we did not mean to scare you." He seemed genuinely grieved to hear that I was scared all this time, lowering me back down to his chest where even more blessed heat was radiating.

"S'kay." I mumbled. "S' long as I get back home, I'm good." I sighed, smiling to myself as the feeling slowly came back to my fingertips and feet.

"We are here, Aina, where Sideswipe reported your initial appearance." I looked around, blinking at the change of lighting. The room was brighter than I remembered; but still recognizable. Still plain.

"So what, is this like, your rec room?" I asked, looking around at my newly illuminated surroundings.

"Essentially, yes." I was lowered back to the freezing ground, much to my dismay. I hissed at the feeling of cold metal against my feet. "Please, will you show me where you entered from?"

I nodded, glancing around for something that would catch my eye. Honestly, I had no idea what to look for. Gross, old and flowery wallpaper? A door with markings like my burnt arm? A singed, blackened handprint? I had no clue.

So I did what any person in my situation would have done. Looked around for the obvious.

My efforts eventually were rewarded when I spotted my lost flashlight, a sign of hope to my weary, blood-shot eyes. I rushed over and scooped it up, scanning the wall before me for any sign of my previous entrance. I didn't have to look long - the distinct shape of my 'attic door' a clear indication. I padded up to it, conscious of the quaking steps following behind me. I touched it, feeling a tingle shiver it's way up my arm. I looked back to Optimus, uncertainty welling up inside my chest. "I'm eighty percent sure this is it."

He nodded, seeming to understand my hesitance. "Can you open it?"

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "I can certainly try." I shuffled up to the door, studying it for a door handle or something - _any_ way to open the damned door.

To reveal a way home, and away from this crazy mess.

I gave another weary sigh, not seeing a way to open the door. Using my injured arm - which was, unfortunately, my dominant arm - I moved to lean against the piece of metal in defeat. As soon as my singed skin touched the door, light flooded through nearly invisible markings that matched my arm. "I…" I whispered. "I think I found it."

I looked back and nearly jumped out of my own skin. Optimus had crouched down to my level without a single sound, only a few yards away from me and the glowing hunk of metal. He hummed in agreement. "It would seem that your situation is beyond what I thought it would be."

"What the fuck is _that _supposed to mean?!"

**A/N: WHAT DO YA THINK? I'm a little iffy about this chapter, but i'm probably going to come back and edit it a bunch of times like the first chapter. Whatever. **

**Review and tell me what you think! Still excited about the sunny and sides alternate coloring? You know what I'm excited about? Jazz and Wheeljack! I seriously love those guys. I loved them in the old cartoons, and I love them now. **

**REVIEW**


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